


Home Sweet

by dogeared



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Community: kissemdanno, Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/pseuds/dogeared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's not quite accustomed to this yet, but he thinks he could be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Tag for 2x09

When Danny leaves early to shuttle Grace between school and her tennis lesson and then back to Rachel's, Steve takes off, too, figures he'd better take advantage of the peace and quiet while he can. He likes having Danny at the house, really likes that he can give Danny a place to stay, can offer him that comfort and security, but everything about Danny fills the place up: his voice, the sprawl and creep of his stuff, no matter how he and Steve try to keep it contained, the physical space he takes up in the kitchen, on the couch, crowded around the sink in Steve's bathroom, in Steve's bed.

The house is silent and still when he gets there. If he folds up Danny's striped blanket and lays it across the back of the couch, if he sits down for a minute and surveys the room, all he can see is the dark TV, his own face reflected back at him; dust motes drifting in a late-afternoon shaft of sunlight; bright sky and blue water out the windows. All he can hear are the waves, lulling, no matter what Danny says, and the rasp of his own thumb as he rubs it absently against his pant leg, and it's almost like Danny was never here at all.

Steve blinks, then closes and opens his eyes again, a little slower this time, and again, closed, open. Closed.

***

When he wakes up, the world's tilted at an angle. He slumped sideways in his sleep, and he can't even remember the last time he took a nap that wasn't either a catnap on a mission—sleep-deprived and always on alert, hunkered down in the sand or the jungle—or because he was injured enough that he passed out.

His cheek's resting against Danny's blanket, senses filled up with the scent of him, and he slowly regains his awareness of the rest of his surroundings—the setting sun, the low murmur of voices on the radio, the news, maybe, or a game, and the dull clanks and thuds that mean Danny's cooking something, because he always turns domestic after seeing Gracie.

Steve's not quite accustomed to this yet, but he thinks he could be.

And then Danny's striding into the room, still in his work clothes, sleeves pushed up over his elbows, bringing the smells of the kitchen with him, peppers and tomatoes and beer, spicy and warm. He sits down close enough that their thighs fit snugly together, says, "What was that, huh, a Navy nap?" and leans in and presses a kiss to the corner of Steve's mouth. "I have to tell you, that didn't look too comfortable, babe."

Steve turns his head, opens his mouth to Danny's, and the sweet, still-new ache of wanting and having is overwhelming and welcome.

"It was. Sort of," Steve says against his lips. "But this is better."


End file.
